Alfriston Gardens
by Marauder
Summary: A fic for E. M. Forster's novel Maurice. After meeting in the boathouse and before eloping to the greenwood, Maurice and Alec go to Alfriston Gardens to collect some of Maurice's things.


Alfriston Gardensby Marauder

Notes: This is a fic based off of E. M. Forster's novel _Maurice_. The reader should note that the fic takes place in the world of the book and not the film; although the film does an excellent job of staying close to the text of the novel, there are differences.

The train ride from Penge to Alfriston Gardens would not seem long to some, but to people in a hurry to disappear it lasts for an eternity. Alec slept through most of it; the hours spent awake at the boathouse had caught up to him. It was Maurice, then, who looked out of the window and saw the countryside go by.

From the station the walk was only about twenty minutes. They said nothing to each other until Maurice stopped in front of the house and rummaged in his pocket for the key.

"This will only take a minute or so," he said. "There are just a few things I want to make sure I take, clothes and that sort of thing."

Alec was looking at the darkened windows. "Are you sure they're all asleep, then?"

"They ought to be. If not – well, we'll deal with that when it comes." He found the key. "Are you ready?"

"To do what?"

"To go inside."

It appeared Alec had not thought of entering the house. He shrugged and followed Maurice up the path to the door.

Inside they quickly discarded their shoes and started up the staircase. "Who all lives here?" Alec asked.

"My mother and my sister Kitty. My sister Ada did too, until recently, but she's married Arthur Chapman. My father died when I was fourteen years old." He spoke in a low voice that was not quite a whisper, and had not been careful to step around the creaky places on the stairs. Part of him wondered if he secretly wanted to be found; such was the emboldening power of love that he thought it altogether possible.

Once they reached his room Maurice turned on the small lamp by the side of his bed and quickly dimmed it so that it provided only the smallest amount of light. He located the suitcase on the top of his wardrobe and put it on the floor, open. From inside the wardrobe he took shirts, trousers, thick socks. Upon seeing his flannel trousers he shoved them hastily to one side. If he were to be reborn he must fully die, and take no trace of deceased affections with him.

Alec had climbed onto the bed and now lay on his back, with his arms crossed behind his head. "No flannel trousers?"

"No. No dinner jackets either, or books by Greek philosophers. I shan't need them." He looked up suddenly and caught a glimpse of his own shadowy reflection in the mirror. His hair, as a result of the meeting in the boathouse, was tousled and looked as though it had never felt the civilized touch of a comb. He had buttoned his shirt incorrectly. 

Alec smiled in a very self-satisfied way. "Not fit to be receiving company, are you."

"Not fit in the slightest." Nor would he be ever again. In the morning his mother and Kitty would wake, and finding him gone would assume he was still at Penge with Clive. They would never know that he had forsaken all company save for one man, a man who was a waking dream. They could not know that he had abandoned their world and left for another. When he did not return they would perhaps investigate, but would find nothing. In time he would become only a memory to them, the son and brother who after years of disdainful treatment had vanished as though the earth had swallowed him up.

"Are you ready?"

He was. But as Maurice turned to close his suitcase the flannel trousers caught his eye once more, and a thought struck him.

"Alec, I have to go back to Penge."

His friend misunderstood. "Penge," he sneered, "and after all we've been through? If you think – "

"No. I don't mean to stay there. There are some things I need to say to Clive, and then we'll go."

"I don't see why you want to bother."

"Look, perhaps you haven't got anything left to say to your parents, or Fred, or Milly and her cousin, but you've lived a more honest life than I have. It's something I need to do. Please understand."

Alec sighed. "If it's want you want."

"It is. Just for five minutes." He approached the bed and took Alec's hand.

On their way down the stairs they whispered to each other. The train to Penge – they would arrive very late at night, but before the dawn broke. By the time the residents of Alfriston Gardens awoke they would be miles away.

As they put on their shoes Alec stopped. "Maurice, what about the wire?"

"What?"

"The wire I sent here, about meeting in the boathouse. Your Ma and sisters are sure to open it after you haven't come home in days."

"Let them." A sliver of truth – that much he would leave them.

On the train he rested his head on Alec's shoulder and closed his eyes.


End file.
